Shadowed Shadow


I was born as a shadow. Physically I am black and have no detailed features at all. I am just an outlined emptiness whose job is to mimic someone the society dictates. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t chose to intentionally mimic that one particular person—they glued my feet under hers, so, how can I escape?

But lately, I’ve got so much tired. My ankles hurt ’cause she’s been running too much. I can’t catch up! I almost tripped every time I tried to follow her.

I wanted to escape and explore the world. Enjoy the cool breeze at the beach on my own and run with no destination. But, I can’t—there are no other options left. Instead, I let her drag me down on the floor while she walks, pull me like a cart that she owns, and treat me with no worth. It gave me terrible wounds, bruises, that turned into scars; plotted on my back, my limbs, and on my heart—that will forever hunt me for not standing for myself, for not pursuing what I want, for not voicing out what I am truly destined to be. I am not strong and I’m near to exhaustion. Eventually, I believe, my blood will slowly leave unwanted marks on her footprints. And people will remember me as her shadow covered with failure.

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Shadowed Shadow

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